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I’m angry at the sharp divide I see between rural and urban Malawians. What first seemed mild complacency by urbanites now looks to me more like the wishing away of a rural life altogether.
Putting on airs, dismissive tones, avoided glances, casual dismissals: I’ve seen all this in Canada before, but I was never suitable well-heeled to see all that much of it. In Malawi, however, I’m in with the thin strata of Malawians with NGO or government jobs and privy to seeing all of these social status trademarks on display, and more.
Especially on the commute to and from work. These days I’ve found a place in Lilongwe, a small one-room rental, and the work bus picks me up each morning and drops me off each evening. As we make the circuit to collect the IITA staff it feels that we’re a silent spaceship lifting a dozen or so choice Malawians from anonymous dusty streets into the tinted-window confines of status.
This status struck hard when, one morning on the way into work, the bus pulled to the roadside for staffers to by fresh peanuts from a vendor lugging a 50kg sack around on the back of his bicycle. The patronizing tones in haggling, the hard-bargain struck, the flaunting of a few small bills before handing them over in payment all made it abundantly clear to me: the Malawians I’m with see themselves as separate from the barefooted labourers tracing paths in and out of cornfields.
And as always, I may have the sentiment wrong; I may have misjudged, misread the signs. I might be conjuring sentiment where there is none—but the palpable claim to status that has long since settled into the upholstery of that work bus nudges me to believe otherwise.
I love reading your thoughts! Thanks!
ReplyDeleteHope you are doing well!
much love
Jill
I'm afraid I'd have to agree with you on this one - the huge separation of the urban from the rural. As one of the persons who used to board the "tinted-window confines of status", I sometimes couldn't help feeling the same way - I was somehow 'different' from the rest who had to wait for public transport to get to their workplaces. It's so very common. Is it wrong, you ask me? Absolutely, what made me any special - the bus? My job? It's all vain. Thanks for sharing your thoughts on this, and keep up the good work. I'm sure you'll find a better organization to work with after IITA. Keep writing!
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ReplyDeleteHi Graham,
ReplyDeleteI find this post really intriguing, because I don’t necessarily see it as all negative – or at least I don’t see the negativity solely that of Malawians, but rather of human nature in general. It’s very true that the dismissive tone and attitude of superiority can be both alarming and demoralizing, but from my admittedly limited experience (which was much shorter than yours, of course), I can sort of understand the perspective of the ‘status-ed’ Malawians with whom you worked.
I know that not all people in Malawi with well-paying jobs have necessarily done the work to deserve it – although this can be said about many countries. But I can imagine that if someone has lived in poverty their entire life, and manages to work hard in their education such that their dedication and effort lands them a prestigious NGO or government job, they would (and should) feel proud of their achievement. They would also presumably be seen as a success by their family and community, especially if they move out of the village and into a more urban environment that more closely mirrors the image of wealth created by western societies. That situation itself would create a bit of a status-effect, wherein people desire what the elites have, and eventually some of the elite might develop a superiority complex. I met one particular example of such a man who left me rather disgusted with his exceedingly arrogant comments and constant jeers at those he considered ‘below’ him. Perhaps he was an extreme example…Anyway my point is that I found that many of the people who worked in NGOs came from the very backgrounds they now feel separate from; and although some may try to dissociate themselves completely from their past, most are generous with their time and affection, along with the money and status that comes with their job. Conversely, if getting out of extreme poverty is the ultimate goal and people manage to achieve it, can we really blame them for developing a bit of an attitude for not being part of the next-to-no-GDP-contributing, lowly labourer class anymore? It’s what most western governments and development organizations are trying to strive for, push for, and reward. Having a well-paying job is revered and respected. It reminds me what Sylie said in her blog about Malawian ‘wants’:
“I want to live the mzungu life. I want to eat whatever I want at any time of the day. I want to have a flush toilet. I want a shower. I want to go wherever I want, whenever I want. I want electricity, a radio, a TV, a satellite dish. I want it all. I want someone to wash the dishes and do the wash for me. You have it, why can’t I have it? I want to go to Canada. I want the mzungu life.” (I think there was also something along this respectability issue in The Critical Villager…)
As a side note, one my friends recently observed that even in Canada, the educated elite tend to associate with the educated elite (and marry each other too), and that as a whole we (university-students and grads) tend to look down on the less-educated, and urbanites tend to look down on those in rural settings. This superiority thing you talk about is unfortunately existent all over the place (although in a minibus stopping for peanuts, it’s probably glaringly and painfully obvious).
Anyway, I know can be a bit disheartening when no one comments, so I thought I’d let you know that I’m enjoying your blog and that many people are reading it.
Emily Stewart